


Bullet

by orphan_account



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Healing, older natsume, someone nearly dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-02-24 08:36:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2575055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are things you don't say- times you don't thank someone, and times you don't tell someone you understand more than they think. It doesn't matter, because you're friends, and friends know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bullet

Natsume Takashi is twenty years old when he saves Madara for the first time. To be precise, he takes a literal bullet for him- an idea so incredulous a younger him would have laughed. The role reversal is odd, and- to his surprise- unwanted by them both. It sounds nice in theory, doesn't it?- given the bond they share, it's a Nice Thing for Natsume to finally be indispensable to his bodyguard for once. Right?  
Haha.

There isn't enough sake in the world to incapacitate Madara enough to harm himself, and there are few, very few, spirits who could seriously harm him. So no, it had not been a youkai who had steelbitten and lungclawed him. It had, of course, been a human.

Natsume still remembers the gunclap that echoed in the night, and how that thunderous sound had jolted through him, had resounded through the forest roots, until all he could feel was his own panicked pulse. He had run without bothering to pull his shoes on, and the blisters had taken weeks to heal.

Even now, in his dreams- Madara frequently relives this moment in blurred, quivering snapshots. The glistening metal, the hooked smile of an exorcist far crueler than the Matoba clan could ever be. Nobody had known his name. Natsume doesn't know if he'll return.

In his dreams, Madara remembers being inches away from- from-

-and then he remembers Natsume emerging through the forest growths, leaping with outstretched hands-  
-and he recalls roaring, though perhaps that was Natsume as well-

-and Natsume, his blood everywhere, but Natsume, alive, because the curses wrapped around those bullets couldn't harm him the way they could harm..him.

Madara never speaks of this, though. And Natsume doesn't know if his old cat is aware that he watches his dreams, and that he relives it with him every time, (and that every time, Natsume too wakes with the terror shuddering through him with triggerous, blunted impact). 

The nightmares grow less frequent, with time. In the quiet hours of the night, during the times they occur , Natsume simply strokes his (healing, slowly) friend's fur, and accepts the mumbled thanks muttered in reply. "Thanks" applies to various things, and a bit of blood lost is nothing compared to what could have been the absence of perhaps your closest, first friend.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked this. writing it was cathartic- then again, most things to do with this beautiful series are! i kind of want to write more of older natsume, whom this fic didn't explore as much as i intended.. ah, well, stay tuned and yeah, kudos and comments are always deeply appreciated and gr9! thanks for reading!


End file.
